Atonement
by Lady Kiddymonster
Summary: WARNING: SEASON 4 SPOILERS imagines that Violet DID die of Influenza in series 4, but before she dies she seeks Isobel's help to make amends to both Edith and Anthony. Although the episode where Violet was ill did not take place at Christmas I thought I would set it then anyway.
1. Chapter1 Fluttering Wings

**Atonement**

**This story imagines that Violet DID die of Influenza in series 4, but before she dies she seeks Isobel's help to make amends to both Edith and Anthony. Although the episode where Violet was ill did not take place at Christmas I thought I would set it then anyway.**

**I apologise for my long absence from the Andith fandom but DI Frank Lyle needed me.**

**Author note: I am sure this story will never happen in canon, primarily because Violet has an aversion to admitting she was wrong, but the psychology of imminent death often forces individuals to evaluate regrets from their lives so I am very much playing on that in this story.**

**One Fluttering Wings**

Isobel Crawley was exhausted. For two long nights now she had kept vigil beside the Dowager's bed. She was under no illusions that Violet would be remotely grateful, but Isobel was just as stubborn as the dowager on occasions and this happened to be just one of those times.

Violet's fever had broken that afternoon, but owing to her age, Dr Clarkson came every hour on the hour. Violet was cold and clammy. Right now she was sleeping.

"You really ought to get some rest, Mrs Crawley," Clarkson said, "You won't be any good to anyone if you don't. It will lower your immunity and make you more likely to get influenza yourself," he placed a hand on her shoulder and Isobel shivered pleasantly. He lowered his voice. "The Angel of death is still fluttering his wings over Lady Grantham's head at present."

"No, I want to see this through," Isobel said stubbornly.

"I'll bring you some strong tea."

He left the room.

It was the week before Christmas and everywhere else people were getting ready for the occasion. The huge tree had been erected in the hallway at Downton and looked magnificent even when the lights were off. Isobel tried to forget that this would be their first Christmas without Matthew. No one had mentioned it, but Isobel knew that everyone was thinking it nonetheless.

But Isobel's thoughts went beyond her late son. She thought about Lady Edith. She knew that Edith was worried about her sweetheart, Michael Gregson, who was still missing in Germany. It would be a worrying time, but, as usual, Edith was left to cope with things more or less alone. The Earl and Countess of Grantham were, as usual, wrapped up in Mary and Isobel wished that sometimes they would remember they had two surviving daughters, not one.

Violet murmured in her sleep and Isobel hastened close in case she wanted anything.

But Violet slept on and Isobel relaxed. She could hear Violet's slow steady breathing.

Suddenly Violet jerked away and tried to sit up, but she was much weakened and struggled. Isobel assisted her to sit and Violet croaked her thanks and asked for water. Isobel held a cup to her lips so she could drink.

"You needn't lie to me cousin Isobel, I know I'm for the off. I heard Dr Clarkson's comment about the angel of death fluttering his wings above my head and I can feel them,"

"Don't be so melodramatic," Isobel chided, "The fever was the most dangerous part and that's broken now,"

"Listen to me, Isobel. I need your help. Before I die I need to make amends to two people in love. I have done a lot of thinking in recent months, since we were in Scotland in fact, and that Gregson chap is not good enough for Edith. After all, he has simply abandoned her without a bye or leave."

Isobel wasn't sure what exactly Violet was trying to say, but resolved to listen.

"I'll help if I can, Lady Grantham," she said.

"The person I am thinking of abandoned her too, but with good cause, at least in his mind. What he did he did in love of Edith. I know we were all rather glad at the time, but looking back..."

"You and cousin Robert were glad," Isobel corrected, "I was rather sorry for them and as usual Edith was left to cope alone."

"Let's not split hairs," Violet said, "Whatever the case it did not happen, but Edith is once again suffering. I don't think it likely Mr Gregson will come back either, he's done his part,"

Violet had no intention of telling Isobel about Edith's condition, but Isobel instinctively knew anyway.

"Basically, what you're saying is you need someone to come and help make her respectable and clean up the mess." Isobel said.

"Perhaps Sir Anthony Strallan can clean up his own mess as well as Gregson's." Violet said.

Isobel was sure Violet was not thinking clearly. Maybe fear of death was clouding her mind and judgement, but Isobel appreciated the sentiment although she was certain Violet had absolutely no comprehension of what she was asking emotionally. She had already worked out what Violet expected of her and it would be no simple task.


	2. Chapter 2 Troubled musings

Edith lay in her room. She was tired but unable to sleep, owing to the constant kicking of Gregson's child inside her swollen belly. How different things might be had he not gone AWOL. Edith had never felt more vulnerable than she did at this moment. Mind you .he was unable to marry her legally, and she hoped that things were progressing with regard to him divorcing his mad wife. That was if proceedings had even begun. Edith feared for his safety. He had made her feel attractive, important, although she sensed her family were not that enamoured of him. But they did not know him, Edith told herself. Besides they had felt the same about Sir Anthony.

Edith was shocked to find her eyes burning with tears at the thought of Sir Anthony Strallan. They had got on so well, had similar tastes in music and literature and similar sense of humour. She had never hated him for walking out on their wedding, but been hurt he had not tried to contact her to offer some form of apology or explanation. She had thought she could trust him, but he had promised a proposal, which had been wrecked by Mary at the garden party long ago in the summer of 1914. Therefore Edith had thrown herself into trying to forget that she loved him. Thus, emotionally vulnerable and seeking some kind of approval, she had fallen into Michael's arms and bed. Now he too had deserted her. Edith wondered if she would ever find a man to love her for herself and look after her. Now she was ruined she doubted that, what man would take on another's bastard after all? She had helped Isobel with her charity work with fallen women and was well aware of the prejudice she now faced. She had always been the black sheep of the Crawley family and was thoroughly sick of the way life seemed to raise her hopes before dumping on her from a great height. Life had done the same to Anthony; he had lost his first wife and child tragically, along with his confidence, although not his decency. Then they had courted briefly until Mary had messed things up by lying to him at the garden party. Then the war had come and Anthony had returned a broken shell of a man. He had told Edith she had given him back his life, but then walked out on her. But he had called her lovely. Michael had never called her that and his flattery was insincere and shallow she now realised. She knew she had to make the best of things, but how could she do that when she was stuck bearing the bastard child of a man who had deserted her, whether intentionally or otherwise.

Edith glanced at the engagement photo of her and Anthony and tears streaked her face. What she would not give to look into those blue eyes once more just to tell him she forgave him. She wanted to ask his forgiveness too, for pressuring him and for not standing up for them both.

She had no future now, not without Anthony or Michael. Edith Crawley cried herself to sleep.

OO

Violet was sleeping again. Dr Clarkson had brought her and Isobel some beef tea, saying Violet must drink it to build her strength. Violet had drunk it with a sour expression on her face as though it was hemlock, but Isobel had been grateful for hers and not least because it was Clarkson who had brought it to her.

Isobel put her head in her hands. Did Violet have any idea of the enormity of the task she had given her? It would be hard enough talking to Edith, given that she was so worried about Michael Gregson, but getting anywhere near Anthony Strallan would be damned near impossible. Isobel had no idea if he was even still in the country, or indeed, the land of the living, although she was certain that the death of a baronet would have been made something of in the newspapers, not least because of his link to the Earl of Grantham's family. Isobel had read and heard nothing along these lines and she wished with all her heart that Matthew was still alive as he could have made discreet enquiries on her behalf.

Isobel decided that she would go and talk to Edith after breakfast that morning – it was now the early hours of the morning. She didn't know how long ahe had so hoped that the angel of death would continue to hover over Violet for a while yet. If Violet made a recovery Isobel sensed that her task would become null and void at Violet's behest, but she realised that she would continue its pursuit until a result was achieved. There was nothing Isobel enjoyed more than getting up Violet's nose.


	3. Chapter 3 Edith talks

**Author note: Violet is clearly vulnerable to Influenza given her age. In 2013 she would have been given a flu vaccination, but no such thing existed in her time. So one just had to hope for the best, although Violet was of course among the privileged who could afford a doctor's attention. Many would not have been quite so fortunate.**

Violet lazily opened one eye and her brow creased in a frown as she saw Isobel.

"Are you still here?" she quipped icily.

"Yes Lady Grantham, but I was going to get some rest."

"I'm the one with influenza and death's wings fluttering over her head. You have work to do and precious little time in which to do it," Violet snapped.

Isobel swallowed hard, choking back a caustic retort.

"I'm going now." she said.

As soon as she had become ill, Violet had been moved to Downton to make things easier for Dr Clarkson, who clearly expected an epidemic.

OO

Edith woke up and, not for the first time since that dreadful day in Downton church two and a half years before, her first thoughts were of Anthony. She did think of Michael of course, but her first and last thoughts of the day were always of the man she had truly loved and lost. But today was the first time she had admitted it to herself, admitted that Anthony absorbed all her energy and thwarted passions. But he would not want her now. No man would. Never mind that the war and Spanish flu meant there were few decent men left. She cursed Michael under her breath for the way in which he had left her ruined. Not quite destitute, but that would follow soon enough unless Michael re-emerged in a legal position to make an honest respectable woman of her. Lord Grantham seemed to walk around with his head either in the clouds or buried in the sand depending on the issue. When Edith's condition became impossible to ignore he would cut her off for sure, it would be easy given that she was his least favourite. She knew that she was on borrowed time and she had no idea that both her grandmother and cousin Isobel also were, but for different reasons. The family had been kept from Violet's bed chamber as far as was humanly possible because Dr Clarkson did not want the influenza virus to spread to the rest of the family and through it the household below stairs.

Mary had taken her son, George, and Anna to London to stay with Lady Painswick so at least Edith did not have to endure her sister's unkind comments at this time. Sybil would have been so much kinder and Edith missed her sister more than she cared to let on. Tom was sweet to her, but he was still lost in his own grief so Edith did not like to trouble him. Edith sometimes felt she had been twice widowed, the pain she felt on having lost first Anthony and then Michael was raw enough. Michael was temporarily out of the picture, but with every passing day the permanence of that loss seemed imminent. There was no one Edith could really confide in which made the hours seem twice as long and lonely as they otherwise might be.

Edith sat and let Carson pour her coffee.

"Are you alright, my lady?" he asked.

Edith shook her head.

"Not really Carson, I am just so worried about Mr Gregson. His newspaper have sent a private detective to Munich in search of him, but no trace so far. I was looking forward to spending Christmas with him, but that won't be possible now. Still, I will do what I always have done," Carson did not fail to notice the bitterness of her tone, "I shall get by, I usually do because no one care about me."

"I'm sure that isn't true, my lady," Carson was astonished, mainly because he and his fellow servants never gave much thought to her feelings simply because she was not Mary.

"Oh it is, Carson," Edith's vulnerability made her speak her mind, although she would no doubt be chastised for it later on, "I thought they might actually register my existence after Sybil died, but it's gone the other way. I'm more alone than ever."

"I'm sure your private detective will come up with something," Carson ventured.

"He's not Sherlock Holmes, Carson," Edith snapped, "With every passing hour I despair more and I dread Christmas this year more than ever."

"I think we all do this year, my lady, because it's the first without Mr Matthew."

"I know I'm not the only one hurting, Carson," Edith's voice softened, "But I'm fed up with life dumping on me."

There wasn't much Carson could say to this without appearing impertinent so he went on with his duties in silence.

OO

Isobel came in as Edith was finishing her coffee.

"How's Granny?" Edith asked.

"The fever has broken, Edith, but Dr Clarkson says she is not out of the woods yet. I know Lady Grantham is hale and hearty, but older people and young children are much more vulnerable to influenza because age lowers their immunity to such things."

Carson fetched Isobel some toast and coffee.

Isobel was not especially hungry, but she ate a slice of toast anyway along with a small portion of kedgeree.

"Is there any more news on Mr Gregson?"

Edith shook her head, trying to blink away the tears burning her eyes.

"No, nothing."

"I'm so sorry,"

"I'm so stupid, cousin Isobel. I threw myself at the first man to pay me any attention after Anthony walked out, and he was yet another man I should not have trusted. I have always had to compete with Mary, and always lost out. I really wish I could disappear like Michael, although I bet Papa would not bother coming to look for me."

Isobel could feel Edith's pain. She had felt it the day Anthony jilted her, but she felt it even more now with the near impossible task Violet had inflicted on her. A task she had no idea how to begin, much less complete.

"I'm so confused, Cousin Isobel," Edith wept, her body convulsing with violent sobs. "I really tried to love Mr Gregson, and I suppose I do in a way, but it was not like I had...like it could have been with Sir Anthony. If Michael does turn up dead then yes I shall be sad, but losing Anthony hurts far more, because the truth is I still love him and I think I always have. In fact I don't think I can ever love anyone else while Sir Anthony Strallan draws breath."


	4. Chapter 4 Affairs of Edith's heart

Isobel comforted Edith until her sobbing subsided. Edith blew her nose and dried her eyes on a clean handkerchief.

"I'm sorry cousin Isobel; you must be feeling just as wretched, it being your first Christmas without Matthew."

"I have to accept that he has gone," Isobel said gently, "But as far as you know both Mr Gregson and Sir Anthony are still alive. Where there is life there is always hope."

"The idea that Michael is still alive grows less realistic by the hour, but I know that Sir Anthony is alive, even though he doesn't want me. I know that he did what he did out of love, but he never asked me what I wanted and he would have been my salvation from the feelings of being stifled that I get here. I would have been the centre of his world and I know I would have been a great success as mistress of Locksley because that is what I always wanted, and still do want if I'm honest with myself."

"It will only be too late when one of you takes your last breath." Isobel said. Edith had given a way into doing what Violet wanted, but Isobel was acutely aware of being on borrowed time.

"He won't want me now," Edith sighed, "Not when I let another man ruin me with his bastard."

"Oh Edith, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"It's not obvious yet, but time is running out because when it does become obvious Mary will make my life a misery and Papa will cut me off without a penny so I shall be destitute. Michael has left me no financial provision because I did not discover I was pregnant until after he went missing. My life and reputation are gone for no man will want me or another man's bastard. Not even Sir Anthony is that noble."

Edith's eyes implored as she said

"Please help me cousin Isobel, you are the only one who understands because of the good works you do with women in my situation. I did think about getting rid of it, but the clinic was sordid and I could not go through with it. I have heard the horror stories about women dying or never being able to have children once they were married and settled later on. I shall have to give the baby up, if Michael doesn't come back."

"What is being done to find Mr Gregson?"

"I know only that his newspaper has sent a private detective to Germany, but so far without success."

"Why Germany?"

Edith did not want to tell the whole truth at this time, so she lied.

"He has personal business connected with a wartime comrade, more than that I have no wish to know."

Edith sensed that Isobel did not entirely believe her, but for now that did not matter. What mattered was that, right now, she had someone to talk to.

"I really don't know what to do, cousin Isobel, and time is running out for me." She sighed deeply, "You have no idea how much I want to see Anthony again, look into those gorgeous blue eyes of his, but it would be too painful for us both, although I need his forgiveness because I rushed him and did not let the family get used to us, I did not stand up for him or for what I wanted. I need him to know he is forgiven too. Oh cousin Isobel, having as good as lost two men I loved I am emotionally destitute. I may be carrying Michael's baby, but if things had been different i could have been carrying Anthony's baby and that would make me happier than I have ever felt. I can't rid myself of the misery I carry around with me daily, a misery that should have ceased not begun that day in Downton church. My mother said that what didn't kill me would make me stronger, but right now I feel weak and so alone it frightens me. Anthony gave me up at the sacrifice of his own happiness and you don't forget something like that. Granny and the family told me to keep busy, which is why I started writing. Anthony would hate to know what has become of me, because he never set me free for that. I need him, cousin Isobel, I need him more than I have ever needed anyone and I never realised that until now. But I can't forget that he told me I had given him back his life, but he took that and any chance of happiness from me that day. I saw the look in his eyes as he walked away and it sent my heart crashing to the floor where it shattered and I think I heard his break too. If only I could have that day back, cousin Isobel. I never told him I loved him and I think, with hindsight, it would have made all the difference in the world to both of us."

"It's not too late, Edith dear."

"He won't want me, cousin Isobel."

"You won't know until you ask."

"I can't go to Locksley," Edith breathed, "I wish I could."

Isobel was torn. She had decided not to tell Edith what Violet had asked her to do, but she knew that the most difficult part still lay ahead.

Edith excused herself to go to the library.

Isobel put on a warm coat for it was beginning to snow. She had no idea how long it would take to get to Locksley for she had never been there. She saw Tom Branson walking towards the house and cleared her throat.

"Tom."

"Oh hello Mrs Crawley, looks like we're due a real snow storm."

"It would appear so," she said. She swallowed.

"Tom, would you do me a favour?"

"If I can."

"Would you drive me to Locksley house."

"Locksley, isn't that where Sir...?" he started to say before realising it was none of his business.

"Sir Anthony Strallan, yes," Isobel said somewhat tersely, "Look will you take me or not?"

"Of course, wait there while I get the car."

Isobel stood; her breath visible like smoke in the cold December air, Tom was around with the car in moments and he opened the door for her. Isobel settled herself inside and pulled a blanket over her knees.

Neither she nor Tom said a word during the short drive.

When Locksley appeared on the horizon Isobel's breath caught in her throat. She was aware that she only had one chance to get this right but she realised she was not doing this for old Lady Grantham now, she was doing it for Edith and if the truth was known she had been wanting to do something like this for Edith ever since that day two long years before.

Therefore she had so succeed, if only to have some chance of finding soothing balm for Edith's broken heart and shattered psyche.

Tom dropped her off and went to park. He had brought a thermos of coffee to keep him warm.

With her heart pounding Isobel Crawley tapped on the heavy front door. All too soon she heard footsteps from within.

She had reached a point of no return.


	5. Chapter 5 Tears and the truth

The door creaked open and Stevens, Anthony's faithful butler, appeared.

"Yes?" he enquired.

"I need to speak to Sir Anthony as a matter of some urgency," Isobel swallowed.

"Sir Anthony doesn't want to see anyone, ma'am. To tell you the truth he's been a virtual recluse these last two years."

Isobel tried to conceal her concern.

"I'm afraid I have some news, concerning Lady Edith Crawley."

Stevens knew that his master had been desperate for news of Lady Edith. He knew that his master had kept all the copies of the Sketch that contained her articles. He did not know the strange lady on his doorstep, but if she could somehow lift his master's mood that would be a start.

"I'm forgetting my manners ma'am, please come in out of the cold. I cannot guarantee Sir Anthony will see you of course, but I can at least ask."

Isobel stepped in and Stevens shut the door behind her. He indicated a sofa in the hallway. "May I get you something hot to drink? We have some mulled wine and you having some will stop Sir Anthony drinking more than is good for him."

Isobel's heart sank and she hoped that Anthony had not become a drunken lush in the time since she had last seen him.

"That would be very nice, and I will respect Sir Anthony's wishes if he does not want to see me."

"I am hoping he will, ma'am, a visit would do him good," he brought Isobel a glass of steaming mulled wine, "Please wait here, ma'am, sorry I will need to give him your name."

"It's Mrs Isobel Crawley," she said.

Stevens disappeared into the library while Isobel prayed to the God in whom she was not sure she believed that He would grant a miracle, after all it was almost Christmas.

OO

Sir Anthony Strallan stood at the library window gazing out at the falling snow. The leaden skies reflected his mood perfectly. He listlessly poked the dying embers of the fire. He had spent that morning looking at the scrapbook of Lady Edith's articles which he had collected ever since they started appearing. He was so proud of her for finding an outlet beyond the stifling existence she had at Downton. He had also been reading the articles that detailed the disappearance of, and hunt for, the paper's editor, Mr Michael Gregson. Anthony wondered why he was in Germany; of course he had absolutely no cause at that time to connect the missing man with Lady Edith.

"Oh Edith," he lamented, as he had done many times a day for the last two years, "What have I done to you?"

He had wanted to write so many times, but knew that no missive from him would ever reach her hands. He missed those brown eyes and those coppery curls. He missed the times they had met here, reading and talking. They shared a connection deeper than he had realised at the time. His friends had deserted him. By day his heart felt empty, at night his pillow was soaked with his own bitter tears. He thought he had done the right thing, setting her free to find someone whole, someone younger, but, like Lord Grantham and the Dowager Countess, he had forgotten that the only young whole men left alive were so because they had shirked their moral duty, Maud's death ten years or so before had left him lacking confidence and injury had further stripped him. None of this had mattered to Edith, she had chided his self deprecating manner of talking and they had laughed together. She was everything he had ever wanted, but he had given her up rather than enslave her to his care. He had regretted this ever since, the day he had walked out of Downton Church his own heart had broken. If only he had told her he loved her, but he had not even asked her what she had wanted. He had sacrificed his own happiness for love and moral duty. He could not expect Edith to forgive him if he couldn't forgive himself. What he did not know was that she already had.

He had wondered many times what had become of her since.

There was a faint knock at the library door. Anthony sighed.

"Come in." he called softly.

Stevens came in.

"Sir, I am sorry to disturb you, but there is a Mrs Isobel Crawley here. She says she will respect your decision if you choose not to see her, but she has news concerning Lady Edith."

Anthony swallowed hard.

"Show her in, and perhaps some tea, it must be freezing outside."

"Very good, Sir." Stevens retreated and Anthony put a couple of logs onto the fire. The logs were cut into light strips of wood so he could manage them one-handed. The fire began to blaze, but it was a long way from warming his heart. He had shut down emotionally, trying to protect himself from further hurt, but it had not worked because her presence was everywhere, especially in here.

Isobel was shown in and Anthony greeted her.

"What can I do for you, Mrs Crawley?" he asked. "Stevens said you had some news of Lady Edith."

"Yes, I have and it's not entirely good."

Anthony turned pale.

"She isn't ill is she?"

"Not as such, but she is in a difficult situation."

Stevens brought the tea and Anthony asked Isobel to sit. She noticed the Sketch on the table with its headline about Gregson. She knew Anthony would not connect him to Edith; after all he had no cause to, so she supposed Anthony must have kept it in case there was an article by her in there.

"How are you, Sir Anthony?"

"I'm well enough, the injury still troubles me but I have just had to learn to live with it."

"You manage better than most with two working arms if I remember rightly." Isobel said.

"Is the family well? I heard about Matthew and I am truly sorry for he was a fine young man."

"Thank you," Isobel said, "I miss him terribly. Lady Mary and her son are in London visiting Lady Painswick, and I expect they will be stranded if this weather keeps up. Lord Grantham and the countess are fine, as is Lady Edith, but the dowager has influenza and it's pretty serious. Dr Clarkson is taking good care of her though."

"I heard about Lady Sybil too, and am more than sorry because of her youth. How is Tom coping?"

"He's in a bad place."

"I only wish I could give him the benefit of my experience; I know what a difficult road he must travel before he emerges from the valley of the shadow."

"I only know that from the woman's side," Isobel said, "but that isn't much help to Tom because men and women cope differently."

"How is Lady Edith? I have read and kept all her articles and I miss her so much it hurts. I'm so proud of her. Did she send you by the way?"

Isobel shook her head. "I chose to come, but I came in Lady Edith's interests. But she doesn't know I am here."

Anthony was intrigued by this as he sipped his tea.

"I see you have been reading about the mysterious disappearance of Michael Gregson?" Isobel said.

"Yes, I can't think why anyone would want to go to Germany."

Isobel swallowed hard.

"Anthony, Lady Edith had an affair with him and he has deserted her. She has since found out she is carrying his child and faces total ruination. Lord Grantham does not know yet, but it will not be long before it becomes obvious. She has no husband and is sure to find herself destitute."

"Well at least I am not the only man ever to have left her."

"Yes, but you did not leave her carrying a bastard child, Sir Anthony."

"That is true, but it makes me feel worse about what I did. I never set her free for this, Mrs Crawley. I lacked the guts to go and explain and because of this she faces ruination, oh my God." He buried his head in his good arm and began to cry.

For a while afterwards no one spoke, but the room was filled with the soft sound of Anthony Strallan sobbing. Isobel placed her hand on his left shoulder.

"Sir Anthony, Edith admits she made a mistake. She let herself be charmed and seduced because Gregson made her feel good when she was emotionally vulnerable, but she doesn't love him. She told me that she will never love another while you draw breath and that is God's honest truth, I heard it from her own lips this morning. She is vulnerable and frightened."

"Oh god why did I not stay and marry her?" he wept, "Why did I refuse to listen to what she wanted? I love her so much. I could have saved her from all this and then she might be carrying my baby. Oh God how can I ever make it right?"

"While you both draw breath there is every chance," Isobel whispered, "and I will help you in any way I can."


	6. Chapter 6 Return to Downton

"Would she see me?" Anthony asked.

Isobel nodded.

"The only problem would be getting past Carson and Lord Grantham."

"I think you need to meet with her in neutral territory, Anthony. She is not quite showing yet so being seen publicly without a wedding ring would be alright. You are welcome to come to Crawley House. The older Lady Grantham is being cared for at Downton so there is no chance you will be seen from the Dower house. Tom brought me here so I am sure he will drive Lady Edith down to the village."

"What has been done to find Mr Gregson?" Anthony asked.

"The Daily Sketch has sent a private detective to Germany, but so far nothing." Isobel said.

"And is Lady Grantham likely to survive?"

"She's a tough old bird," Isobel said, "But at her age illnesses like influenza can do serious damage as her immunity is likely to be low."

"If you could ask Lady Edith to meet with me tomorrow morning?"

"Of course I will."

Anthony unlocked the drawer of the bureau and took out a few letters tied with purple ribbon.

"I wrote these to Lady Edith, not long after...after that day. They might make my state of mind clearer than any spoken words could do. If you could please ensure she gets them?"

"Of course I will. Sir Anthony."

"Anthony will suffice, Mrs Crawley. You and Edith were the only ones who treated me with any respect."

"In that case you can call me Isobel."

Isobel left soon afterwards and Tom drove her back to Downton.

"So how did you get on?"

"Fine, he misses Edith and very much regrets what he did that day. He is very sorry about Sybil by the way and asked how you were coping."

"Not well, as you know, Mrs Crawley, but Sybil would want me to make the best of things. It just upsets me that Little Sybbie will never know what a wonderful woman her mam was."

"You're surrounded by people who loved her, Tom, when she's old enough to understand Lord and Lady Grantham, Edith and Mary will make sure she knows."

"Do you think old Lady Grantham will get through this?" Tom asked.

"I honestly don't know, Tom, but Dr Clarkson will do everything he can."

"Sybil would still be here if Lord Grantham had listened to him instead of that jumped up eejit." Tom scowled, "and Lord Grantham knows that."

"He will have to live with that decision for the rest of his life, Tom," Isobel said.

"Do you think you can fix things between Edith and Sir Anthony?"

"I don't know. I have some letters he wrote her. I need to be frank with you, Tom, but I need you to keep it to yourself for now,"

"I can keep a secret."

"Lady Grantham is not out of the woods yet and she is convinced she will die. She wants me to try and make things right between Edith and Sir Anthony. I talked to Edith this morning and she confirms that she still loves Sir Anthony. She is in a bad place too, with Mr Gregson missing. I have to arrange a meeting between them at Crawley house tomorrow so I wondered if you would drive her down to Crawley House."

"Of course I will, I want them to be together because Edith won't be happy with anyone else while Anthony draws breath. I'm glad Lady Grantham realises she was wrong about that, but she might have a problem selling that idea to Lord Grantham."

"Let's take things one step at a time, Edith and Anthony need a really good talk about things. Once we know how that goes, we can move on to step two."

"It would be nice to see them together in time for Christmas," Tom said.

"Yes, it would," Isobel said wistfully.

OO

Edith met them in the hallway, she was ashen.

"Edith dear, what's happened? Have you had news about Mr Gregson?" Isobel asked.

Edith shook her head.

"No, Granny took a turn for the worst about an hour ago. Dr Clarkson has told Papa to call Aunt Rosamund, Mary and George back, hope the weather doesn't get any worse else they'll be stuck. Papa is in with her now."

"I'll go and see Sybbie," Tom said, knowing that Isobel and Edith needed to talk.

Isobel steered Edith into the library.

"I've been to see Sir Anthony," she said. Edith's mouth opened wide in astonishment.

"He agreed to see you?"

"Yes, it was difficult, but he knows he made a mistake. I told him everything. He had read about Michael's disappearance but of course had no reason to connect you. He says he never set you free for that and doubts you would forgive him, but he has agreed to see you at Crawley House tomorrow morning."

"Thank you," Edith breathed, "Being able to forgive him in person, well that is better than any foil wrapped Christmas gift I could give."

Isobel handed Edith Anthony's letters. "He wrote these after that day, he said they would explain his state of mind better than any spoken words could do."

Edith put the letters into her dress pocket.

"I'll read them in private later," she said.

Carson came in moments later.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but the dowager countess wishes to speak to you, Mrs Crawley,"

"Alright Carson, I'm coming." Isobel said.


	7. Chapter 7 Bad News

It was very dark in the Dowager's bedroom. Mrs Hughes had built up the fire because Violet was very cold. The turn for the worst of which Edith had spoken had been a series of violent convulsions. These had passed now and Violet lay still, barely able to move as the convulsions had sapped every last bit of her strength. She could speak, but it pained her to do so.

Robert, Earl of Grantham, and his wife, Cora, sat beside the bed. Robert had put through a call to Lady Painswick in London, urging her to come back with Mary because he and Dr Clarkson had no idea of just how long remained to Violet in this world.

"Don't be sad, Robert," Violet whispered, "I have had a good long life and two children of whom I am immensely proud. For a son to bury his mother is the natural order of things."

"You certainly would not want to bury a child, Mama. That is too heart-breaking for words." Robert said. Cora held his hand, knowing he was thinking of Sybil.

"Remember you have two daughters, Robert. Mary has always been favourite and you have never made a secret of that, but Edith deserves your love and attention too, especially now with Mr Gregson being missing."

"The Sketch has sent private detectives to Germany to search for him." Robert said, "I have offered to help Edith, but she refuses. Like Mary she is stubborn."

"She got that from me I expect," Violet grimaced and they sensed she was in pain."

There was a knock on the door and Isobel came in.

"Robert, if you don't mind I should like a few moments alone with Cousin Isobel." Violet croaked.

Robert and Cora left the room, but Violet had no doubt they would be listening. She did not mind, for it served her purpose.

Isobel sat beside the bed. She looked shocked at the deterioration in Violet's condition even since that morning.

"Time grows ever shorter, Isobel. The angel's wings are flapping rather than fluttering now."

"I went to see Sir Anthony Strallan. He deeply regrets his actions. I have filled him in on the Gregson situation. He has kept every one of Edith's articles. He said that was not what he set her free for, but he wants to see her. I have arranged for them to come to Crawley house tomorrow morning. If they can make amends and forgive each other than there is some hope, because I think we both know that Gregson won't be coming back to her, alive or dead. He loves Edith and she still loves him, Gregson was very much second best."

"I hope I can make amends," Violet said, "I shall have some trouble selling the idea to Robert, but surely even he would not want to deny his mother's dying wish. Anthony would look after Edith. I owe him the biggest apology of all. Would you be so kind as to bring him and Edith to me after their meeting, if it is not too late for me by then?"

"Of course I will," Isobel said, "I have told Edith what I did, although she still does not know it was at your instigation."

"You have done well, Cousin Isobel." Violet forced a smile, although Isobel could tell it pained her.

"You should rest,"

"Pretty soon I shall be at eternal rest," Violet said almost sadly.

Robert walked in, his face beetroot red.

"Mother, what are you playing at? To enlist cousin Isobel to do your dirty work for you, especially with regard to that man. It really is too much."

"Robert, we separated Edith from a man who could have taken care of her and he would have treated her well. I am ashamed to this day of my part in that and I wish to make amends to them before I leave this world. Please allow me this one wish."

"I would deny your denying wish, mama." Robert said, "But what happens if Gregson does turn up alive with a claim on Edith?"

"I think we both know that is not going to happen, Robert. Gregson has created enough of a mess of Edith's life and heart. He took advantage of Edith's emotional vulnerability to press his suit and then conveniently disappears leaving her carrying the can, or baby in this case."

"You mean Edith is..." Cora started, "Oh my poor darling."

"It would have been obvious before too long, Cora." Violet said. She coughed violently and Isobel wiped spittle from around her mouth.

""So basically you expect Sir Anthony Strallan to marry her and make her respectable when he wasn't deemed good enough for her before?" Cora gasped.

"Edith is in this position not because of what Anthony Strallan did that day, but because my prejudices put an end to things for them. Effectively it is my fault she is in this mess. I have spent months thinking about this and all I want is to make amends to them before I die."

"For what it's worth, Cousin Robert, I think your mother is doing the right thing." Isobel said.

Robert rang for Carson.

"Please bring Lady Edith here," he said.

"Very good, my Lord," Carson left the room.

Edith was loitering in the hallway. She always got anxious these days when the afternoon post was due.

Carson handed her a telegram. Edith shivered violently.

"Your father and the dowager wish to see you, Lady Edith," Carson said.

Edith slit open the telegram and gave a gasp of shock as she read it.

"Are you alright my lady?" Carson asked.

There was no answer. Edith had fallen to the floor in a dead faint.

LADY EDITH STOP BAD NEWS STOP MICHAEL GREGSON FOUND DEAD STOP WILL BE IN TOUCH WITH REGARD TO HIS LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT STOP HENRY MARKHAM DEPUTY EDITOR DAILY SKETCH STOP


	8. Chapter 8 Two hearts reunited

"What's keeping Edith?" Robert said when she still had not appeared ten minutes later.

"I'll go look for her," Cora said.

She walked into the main upstairs hallway where she found Carson fussing over Edith who was sitting in a chair with a blanket wrapped around her.

"Oh I'm sorry, my lady," Carson said, "I gave Lady Edith a telegram that had come for her and she fainted when she had read it."

Cora was beside her daughter in moments. Edith was sipping water.

"Oh Edith darling, whatever is wrong,"

"Michael is dead, Mama," Edith held out the telegram, "I think he has left me some money, but I don't want it."

"I expect it is shock, darling." Cora turned to Carson, "Please inform the Dowager that Lady Edith fainted and I shall bring her along soon."

"Very good, my lady," Carson departed.

Edith was crying. Cora held her daughter close.

"I don't know why I'm crying, Mama. I didn't love Michael, not really, he just made me feel good for a time, but Sir Anthony Strallan is the only man I ever loved and the only man I ever will truly love and I want to see him so badly."

"I know my darling, but your grandmother wants to make amends to both of you for her interference. I don't think she has very long left."

"Papa won't like that, me seeing Sir Anthony I mean. Obviously he won't be happy about Granny dying,"

"He accepts it is your grandmother's dying wish, Edith."

"That doesn't mean he has to like it."

"That's very true, but he does love you, Edith."

Cora put a hand on Edith's arm.

"Oh Edith darling, why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"Any of what?"

"About..." Cora swallowed, "about the baby."

"I found out after Michael disappeared and I was shocked and ashamed. I was afraid that Papa would cut me off; never mind the snide things Mary will say when I start to show in a few weeks or so."

"We'll deal with Mary," Cora promised, "Why don't you come and see your grandmother?"

Edith followed Cora to Violet's room.

"Edith dear," Violet said, "Whatever is wrong?"

"Michael is dead, Granny. I fainted when I read the telegram. I think he has left me some money, but I don't want it and, to be honest, I don't want the baby either. I wish I had gone ahead and gotten rid, but I couldn't go through with that."

"Edith dear, I can't help feeling this is my fault."

"How can I be your fault Granny? You didn't get me pregnant."

"If I had treated Sir Anthony Strallan with more respect then he would have married you and you would not have crossed Gregson's path. I expect you know that Cousin Isobel has been to see him?"

Edith nodded.

"I want you to be happy, Edith, and my attitude separated the two of you. I am not asking you to forgive all the things I said and the way I treated him because it is for him to forgive me those things, but I don't have long, Edith, and all I want is for you to be happy."

"Oh Granny," Edith sobbed, "I love him so much, but I'm just so confused at the moment, what with the baby, Michael dying and realising how I feel about Anthony."

"That's understandable." Robert said, "Edith, would you forgive me for not seeing what a strong beautiful daughter I have?"

"Of course, Papa."

OO

Edith slept better that night, knowing that she would see Anthony the next day made her happy.

OO

Violet made it through that night, but Clarkson did not leave her room. Violet wanted him to stop fussing, but said nothing. Robert slept in the small ante room beside his mother's room.

OO

Lady Rosamund, Mary and George were stranded. The train was stuck in a snowdrift just north of Doncaster. Mary had got off the train and phoned from Doncaster station. She had seemed agitated, Carson reported, but every effort was being made to get the snow plough in and have the train back on its way as soon as was humanly possible. For now all they could do was wait.

OO

Sir Anthony Strallan got his valet to bathe him and dress him in one of his best suits.

His heart was pounding at the thought of seeing Edith again. He knew that she would be nervous too, so he was glad he would not have to deal with Robert and the dowager in this first instance.

Anthony's valet drove him into Downton village and parked close to Crawley House. He knocked on the door and Isobel herself opened it.

"Good morning Sir Anthony, Lady Edith will be here presently. After she arrives I shall make you some tea and then leave you alone."

"Thank you, Isobel." Anthony breathed.

"Lady Grantham the elder is fully aware of the situation, as are Lord and Lady Grantham. They are accepting of it, but you should know that Lady Edith received a telegram yesterday afternoon informing her of Mr Gregson's death."

"She might not be at her most receptive then, but rest assured she shall be treated with the utmost respect. I will be gentle with her, because all I want is to look after her."

"I know," Isobel said, "All shall be well."

There was a tap at the door and Anthony's heart stood still for a moment. Isobel went to open it and Edith stepped into the room. Anthony thought she had never looked more beautiful than she did at that moment. He was drawn to her because she seemed fragile.

Isobel poured them both tea and left them alone.

Sir Anthony Strallan and Lady Edith Crawley were alone for the first time in iver two years.

"It's good to see you," she whispered blinking back tears.

"It is good to see you too, Lady Edith. You have no idea how much I regret what I did that day, for which I can only ask your forgiveness, for not listening to what you wanted."

"I want to ask your forgiveness too, Anthony. I should not have rushed you, and I should have stood up for us more, but I was swept along by the moment."

He put his good arm around her as he drew her close to his warm body and moments later their clothes were wet with each other's tears.


	9. Reconciliation Edith & Anthony

**Author note: This chapter is mostly Andith related fluff, which they both deserve, but we do get to the point of the story as well.**

Edith stood still, Anthony's good arm holding her close to his warm sinewy body. She trailed her fingertips across his back and he sighed audibly.

"Oh my darling Lady Edith,"

She looked into his blue eyes and he trembled slightly. She then looked down and he followed her gaze, tears filling his eyes when he saw she was holding and caressing his injured hand.

"Oh Edith, I wish to God I could feel that. You are the only person who has held my injured hand in a way other than clinically."

She held his hand as she stood on tiptoe and her soft lips gently grazed his cheek.

"I am so sorry for what has happened to you because I never set you free for that."

"You are forgiven with every fibre of my being and every beat of my heart," she whispered.

"I forgive you with the same," he whispered, "You loved me and wanted us to be happy, my heart shattered too that day."

"I know," she whispered, "I think I heard both our hearts break and the sound has haunted me ever since. That is why I could never have truly loved Michael Gregson, I really tried because I thought you were lost to me forever and now he is lost to me, not that I was ever his except in the sense that I truly regret and, even then, I kept my eyes closed and pretended I was making love to you. If this was your baby then I would be so terribly happy, but I have to face facts I threw away my reputation."

He clasped her hand with his good one.

"Edith, if I have to spend the remainder of my life making it up to you I will, but I want you to know that i am prepared to acknowledge Gregson's child as my own and to give you the protection of my name and estate. I want to marry you, and look after you. You will be the absolute centre of my universe and want for nothing, especially not affection. I love you and I always have, if only i had done the right thing. I am surprised you never hated me, although no one could have hated me as much as I hated myself after that day."

She kissed him gently on the lips and he trembled. They knew that Isobel was in the next room. She had heard what was said and was having trouble blinking away the tears from her own eyes.

He dropped to one knee and took her hand in his good one.

"Lady Edith Crawley, I love you with all my heart and I owe you many marriage proposals. Will you do me the greatest honour of consenting to be my wife and letting me protect you?"

"A thousand times yes, my darling," she breathed, her eyes filling with tears, "I waited so long to hear those words from your lips."

He stood up and once more drew her close to him.

"May I kiss you, properly I mean?"

"Of course," she whispered.

His mouth caressed hers, his tongue gently parting her lips so he could explore her mouth with his own. Edith melted against him, enjoying the feel of his hand caressing her back.

"I wish to God this baby was yours, my darling."

"We will have one of our own, my love," he said gently, "How did Michael Gregson die?"

The kiss had broken a moment or so before, but to both of them it had been deeply satisfying and a real comfort.

"I don't know any details yet, beyond the fact that he is dead," Edith confessed, "But I am expected to hear from a lawyer about his Last will & Testament, though why he has provided for me I am not sure as I did not know I was pregnant when he disappeared and he never knew, unless he took flight in panic that this would be the case. He could not have married me."

"Why?"

Edith flushed scarlet with her shame. "He was already married, but he could not get a divorce here because of some mental health law, although for some reason she was obviously judged sane enough to get married in the first place. He had heard that he could legally divorce her in Europe so that is why he went, to instigate proceedings."

"Edith darling, it was my moral cowardice that got you into this mess because you were emotionally fragile, and I can't forgive myself easily for that."

"I don't blame you for anything," she whispered as she buried her head in his chest, "so If I don't then nether should you, you are truly forgiven my love and I should have fought harder for what I did not realise I truly wanted until it was taken from me."

Anthony swallowed hard.

"I believe time is of the essence, Lady Edith. I suggest we go and speak to your grandmother before it runs out."

Edith swallowed.

"Alright, she wants to make amends to us both."


	10. Reconciliation Anthony & Lady Grantham

Tom drove Edith & Anthony to Downton. Isobel hugged and kissed them both before they left.

"I wish you the best of luck," she said.

"We will be fine now, cousin Isobel," Edith said.

Carson showed them in. He did not seem at all pleased to be allowing Anthony access to Downton, although he knew that it was with both Lord Grantham and the dowager's approval.

Lady Painswick and Mary were waiting in the corridor. They seemed surprised to see Anthony, although they had been informed of developments and of Lady Grantham's wishes.

Dr Clarkson came out into the corridor.

"How is she?" Mary asked.

"She is far from good, Lady Mary," Clarkson said, "In truth I don't think it is likely she will get through tonight. She had another violent convulsion not half an hour ago, but I can only hope I am proved wrong."

"You're doing your best, Dr Clarkson," Mary said kindly.

"Alas, I don't think my best will be good enough in this case. Lady Mary. The Dowager's immunity is severely compromised by her age, I am afraid. All I can do is ensure she is comfortable and not in any pain."

"Just do what you can for her," Rosamund whispered, "i know we haven't always seen eye to eye, my mother and I, but no one should have to bury their mother."

"It is far harder to bury your own child, Lady Painswicke," Cora said.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I am sure it must be."

"It's also hard to bury your own spouse," Tom said, as he appeared, shaking the snow from his boots.

"I can relate to that, Tom," Mary said.

"As can I," Anthony replied. It was the first time he had spoken since they had come back into Downton.

Robert came out of Violet's room and offered Anthony his left hand which the baronet shook.

"You can go in, both of you," his gaze fell on Edith too.

They walked into the room. Edith was shocked at the physical change in her grandmother since only hours before, but Anthony seemed horrified. Edith knew he would have seen terrible sights during the war, but he had always been in some kind of awe of Lady Grantham's stature and her apparent physical strength. Alright, so she needed a cane to walk, but still she had been a force to reckon with and the last time Anthony had lost due to his own insecurities and feelings of being unworthy of Edith. Lady Grantham's face looked like old lined parchment and was flushed, although she shivered,

She raised her hand and feebly beckoned to them. They stood either side of the bed.

"You have talked," her voice was faint and quavery.

"Yes, Lady Grantham," Anthony said, a slight tremor in his own voice, "Edith has accepted the marriage proposal I should have made before the war. I will raise Mr Gregson's child as my own and afford Edith the protection of my name and estate. She will want for nothing; neither money nor affection."

"I am glad to hear that, since it was me who parted you. I made you feel you could not compete with our family, but you are a truer gentleman than those who shirked their moral obligations during the war," she looked up and Anthony crouched down a bit, conscious of his height in relevance to the fact she was fading, "You made a sacrifice for your country and that was never acknowledged by us, by me especially. Can I ask your forgiveness for allowing my prejudices to mar what should have been the best day of my granddaughter's life? I have often thought and regretted that moment since and I realise how wrong I was now I am faced with my own mortality"

"You are forgiven Lady Grantham," Anthony said, "My own insecurities and lack of confidence did not help matters much, but I must ask your forgiveness for not fighting for Edith more. I realise now that she chose me many years ago, but I did not realise what I wanted until it was gone. I will take the best care of her and if I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to her for that day then I shall happily consider it my duty to do so. She is in this situation because of my moral cowardice and I have no greater wish than to put it all behind us and move on."

Violet took Anthony's left hand and placed it over Edith's right.

"Be happy, both of you, and bring forward children of your own."

"We fully intend to, Granny," Edith's eyes shone with tears because she sensed just how close the end was.

They left the room.

Lady Violet Crawley, the dowager countess of Grantham, died that night. Only Robert and Rosamund were present. She had one more violent convulsion close to midnight and at about three o'clock on Christmas Eve day she breathed her last, but she seemed finally to be at peace. Robert wiped tears from his eyes as he comforted his sister. Dr Richard Clarkson issued the death certificate at precisely three fifteen am.

The household wore mourning. Anthony came to spend Christmas with them to provide Edith with moral support, and he had a quiet talk to Tom about coping with being a widower, telling him that he would be there for him whenever he needed another man to talk to who understood. Even Mary seemed relieved by Anthony's presence. She had been told about Edith's situation and actually said she was glad that everything would be alright. She made a tentative apology for her behaviour the day of the garden party which Anthony accepted and reminded her that "we were all different people then, Lady Mary." Edith knew that she and Mary would never totally get on, but they agreed to try as testament to the memories of Violet and Sybil.

Edith was tense until the New Year, because she knew that she had yet to deal with the business of Michael Gregson's will. She and Anthony were making arrangements for a wedding just after New Year as it was the longest things could be left before her shame became evident.

The Deputy Editor of the _Daily Sketch_ brought a solicitor with him and Robert arranged for Murray to be present for Edith's sake; he had had to see him anyway with regard to Violet's will and disposal of personal property.

It was a tense group that gathered in the library at Downton on January 2nd 1923; Murray and Robert, the Deputy Editor and his solicitor, Edith and Anthony were all present. There was still snow on the ground.

"Get on with it," Edith was thinking, her fingernails were pressed into her palms so hard that they were drawing blood. Anthony stood with his good arm around her shoulders and she drew tremendous comfort from having him there.

Robert Brice, the Daily Sketch's solicitor, stood and took a document from his briefcase.

.


	11. Chapter 11 Dedicating the wealth

You could have heard a pin drop in the library at Downton when Mr Brice produced a sheaf of documents. Anthony placed his good hand on Edith's shoulder and she gazed up at him with adoration, grateful that he was there.

Brice cleared his throat noisily.

"This is the Last Will & Testament of Mr Michael Gregson," he said.

"What does it say?" Edith swallowed hard. If there were any bequests made to the asylum where Gregson's wife resided she knew she would have a hard job explaining that because, other than Anthony and Isobel, no one knew that Gregson's purpose in going to Germany was to secure a divorce which he was unable to do under English law owing to her mental state.

"Other than a few small bequests to friends and _Daily Sketch_ colleagues, Mr Gregson has left the residue of his estate to Lady Edith Crawley to dispose of as she wishes with no conditions imposed." Brice said. Edith could almost hear the sigh of relief that emanated from her. This includes his London flat. I have some documents for Lady Edith to sign in order to expedite manners, but other than that there is nothing."

"How much money does this amount to?" Edith asked.

The answer took her breath away.

"Around seven thousand pounds; in addition to his personal effects."

"I don't want any of it," Edith said, "Can I refuse it?"

"Of course you may, Lady Edith, although I would urge you to accept."

"I don't want it," Edith repeated, "I did not love him, and my fiancé has enough means at his disposal to support myself and the child with which I am afflicted. I shall be living at Locksley once married and my family has property in London should we ever visit there. "

"As you wish," Brice said. He clearly found it strange that a young woman should refuse such a large amount of money.

"Are you sure about this, Lady Edith?" Murray asked. Edith nodded.

"If you would not object, Mr Brice, I should like to look over these papers to ensure everything is legally sound." Murray added.

"Be my guest, George, although you will find nothing untoward, you have my word on that."

"Before he left for Germany Mr Gregson asked me to sign a few documents which he stated he would file with Mr Brice," Edith said, swallowing hard, "I should like to know exactly what they were."

Brice flicked through some papers.

"They state merely that you were in agreement with being named as Mr Gregson's legal next of kin, in case some vile fate overcame him, which of course it has."

"Does this mean that Edith will have to arrange to have his remains repatriated and arrange his funeral?" Robert asked.

"There is no question of repatriation, Lord Grantham," Brice said, "You see, Gregson had gone to Germany in order to secure citizenship of that country to facilitate his plans to marry Edith."

"I don't understand." Cora said, "Why on earth would he need to do that? Edith is unmarried and of age to consent to marriage."

Anthony clasped Edith's hand tightly and she felt bile rise into her throat, she knew very well what was coming and she flushed.

"Mr Gregson was married, Lady Grantham, but his wife is legally insane and under present British law she is not considered _compos mentis_ enough to agree to divorce after all she does not even recognise Mr Gregson."

"But if she is legally insane, how come she was able to consent to marriage in the first place?" Robert asked.

"I'm not a psychiatrist, Lord Grantham, nor am I an expert in mental health law," Brice said, "but the type of insanity Mrs Gregson has is hereditary and does not usually manifest until one is in their early twenties, she was only twenty when she married."

"Did you know about this, Edith?" Robert asked.

"I knew he was married and he wanted me to be his mistress, but I resisted that. I did not know that these were his intentions however. He never proposed and I knew he had old army pals in Germany."

Edith knew that her parents didn't believe her, but what was done was done after all. Edith was pregnant and Gregson was dead, so they would never be able to get his side of things.

Anthony squeezed her hand and she blinked back tears.

"I want his money to go towards his wife's care, and to fund any political support for a change in the law to prevent young men and women in future from getting caught out as we were. Also talk to his friends and colleagues who knew him best and arrange a funeral in Munich. I shall not be attending as I will be unable to travel by then, plus Anthony and I have a honeymoon to look forward to. Can you arrange this for me?"

"Of course, if you are sure that is what you want."

"It is," Edith said vehemently, "I have Anthony now so I don't need Michael or any of his possessions. It will serve people better to be used in the way I have just mentioned and why not sell the flat and add the proceeds to the pot?"

"I will draw up some documents for you to sign to that effect and have Mr Murray look over them." Brice said.

"Thank you," Edith said coolly.

Murray and Brice left soon after. Edith did not know why, but she had a strong feeling that both Sybil and Violet would have approved of her decision.

Lady Edith Crawley became Lady Strallan a week later and as she lay in the crook of his arm after a night spent making love she was blissfully happy. They had been so tender to each other and Anthony had wept with joy as she had kissed and caressed his war wound, wishing to God he could feel the gentle ministrations of her beautiful soft mouth and hands.

Michael Gregson was buried in Germany. Edith's wishes with reference to his property were carried out to the letter, although the mental health law that had prevented Mr and Mrs Gregson from divorcing was not changed until 1937.

In late spring of 1923 Edith gave birth to Michael Gregson's daughter whom Anthony loved although she was his own. They named her Sybil Violet. A year later edith gave birth to Anthony Strallan's son and heir, whom they named Philip Matthew Michael Strallan.

After the trials and tribulations they had had in getting together Edith & Anthony's future looked bright. They often visited Violet's grave to lay flowers and say thank you and indeed they both lived happily until their deaths, when they were buried beside each other in Downton Churchyard. No one who knew their story could ever imagine an anything but peaceful rest to those lovers buried in the dark Yorkshire earth.


End file.
